


Choices

by Icantwriteforanything



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Choices, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, No Beta, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-08 22:20:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icantwriteforanything/pseuds/Icantwriteforanything
Summary: Tale of apprentice that woke up and knew nothing.





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my first language.

Asra always tells me not to think too much. To keep my focus on short, simple tasks and build up from there.

I don't know how.

How do you stop thinking? I can't even when I busy my mind with mundane tasks. My mind always comes back to the same topic, it seems it just can't stay away from it.  
What's the most important thing?  
What is something that nobody can live without?  
Thing that makes things like oxygen, food seem insignificant....  
Without what we are not longer human?  
What is it that makes that difference?

Memory.

Something I desperately need.  
What worth has each moment if it can disappear at any given time.  
I don't know but my sheer curiosity is keeping me from giving up.  
That and Asra's sad eyes. I shouldn't..but.... I want to remember. I don't know him but I don't want to disappoint him or be the cause for those eyes.  
He's really....really.... persistent.  
...  
Persistent..?

Who's...really... pre....sistent?

What was I..... thinking.....?

.....

Where....where am I.... who...I....

...

"Brazen?"

...someone .....desperately...who..

Cacophony of noise, litany of despair.

..why...am I ..on the floor?..

"...Brazen?..Brazen?!...No, no, no,no,no,no,no,noo...."

All the grand plans disappearing like smoke.

..what is... happening why I can't even.....even..see...?...

"Listen to my voice, listen only to me....don't think...."

...wh..at...

"DON'T THINK!"

...no...ple..ase...

"...FORGET."

...Why..do I feel..like.... I don't want to?...

"FORGET!"

...

I see nothing. I hear nothing. I..

..know.....nothing...nothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothingnothing... ....nothing.

What am I?

"...Brazen?..Brazen...wa.ke up"

I hate the sound when somebody's voice breaks like that, because I know the feeling. I don't remember it but I'm still allowed to instinctively hate it. Small victories.

"..pl..ease..."

Even if I don't know that voice I can still feel empathetic toward the owner. Anybody would. I open my eyes. Well, at least I can see, even if I'm not sure I wanted to see such pure sadness on somebody's face.

"...Who are you?"

"..."

This is...not a good start.

"Who am...Why are you crying?"

"..."

And why are we sitting on the floor? But I don't feel that's the most important or appropriate question to ask at the moment.

"..Don't cry."

Please I don't know what to do.

"..."

It's kinda funny when hysterically sobbing person tries to calm down. Or smile. And by funny I mean so heartbreaking that you can only think about it as funny if you don't want to start crying as well.

"...I'm sorry....so...sorry.."

Phrase "new beginnings" suddenly don't carry the same optimism as in inspirational speeches. It sounds ominous if anything.

And now, he aggressively tries to wipe tears with his clothing but he will faster bruise his face than achieve the result I'm guessing his going for.

What should I do? Wait?

"..I don't know what happened and if I'm one of the people that you would accept such gesture from but..."

..Such situation requires taking some risks I guess. I hug him. Worst case scenario he will just push me away. But oh, he doesn't. He clutches me so desperately as if I was a lifeline and starts weeping into my shoulder so loud and brokenly that thought of him suffocating crosses my mind. I can only offer universal forms of comfort. It's frustrating.

"Everything will be okay. You don't have to worry."

He looks like he wants to die. I should shut up, it looks like every word coming from my mouth is a knife going through his heart. From the way he claws at the left side of his chest - quite literally. He tries time and again to compose himself enough to talk. It doesn't look like it will happen any time soon though, so I wait. I don't have any reason to hurry anyway...at least I think I don't.

Minutes trickle by and even if his broken spirit is still easily seen through his eyes, he calms down gradually. He looks at me with a broken smile and asks:

"I probably scared you didn't I? I'm sorry...but you're as compassionate as ever, huh?"

I can hear that he barely kept his voice from breaking on the last part of his utterance. As heartbreaking as it is I'm impressed.

"I wouldn't know."

Shit, shouldn't have said that. Why did I say that? He looks like crying. Again.

"..yeah, you wouldn't."

"What's your name?"

He looks at me so sadly and I'm starting to think that this is the way this man will always look at me.

"Asra, nice to meet you."

He musters something you could call a form of a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, but unfortunately you will have to do introductions on both sides."

I'm lamely trying to say something remotely funny. It's very obvious, but he's nice enough to let out small, kinda wet chuckle.

"Asra, nice to meet you Brazen." He corrects himself.

So my name is Brazen. I don't know yet whether I like it or not, but I smile anyway. He looks troubled but less broken.

"Let's get you up from this floor."

Great idea.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asra pov

Going for bread in the morning is nice. The sun, the lack of crowds. The friendly baker. The smell of the best bread in the whole Vesuvia. Everything is nice.

But you're not here. 

And if you're not here it might as well all disappear.

You can't smell the bread, you can't hear concerned questions about you from the baker. You can't squint your eyes on the way home while looking at the sunny city. You can't do anything or you will ...break. And this time I might not be able to fix you.

You're not here and I want to scream and bite and trash on the ground like a child and demand that you are here. With me. But the scariest part is, the part that's making me cry right now is, that it won't change a thing. I can run and scream and yell on top of my lungs, but it won't change a thing. It won't bring you back.

So I'm doing my best to smile while coming through the door. Maybe tasting bread from our favorite place for "the first time" will put a smile on your face. You never smile anymore. I would chop off my arm if it could guarantee your smile.

I'm calling you while going upstairs. Lately you started to react to your name. I'm so proud. You will only do better.

"Brazen?"

Except you won't, because you're laying like a crumpled puppet on the floor. Looking like a grotesque mannequin, all limbs facing wrong directions at wrong angles. I can't get to you fast enough but there is not much I can do and that knowledge, that reality is something I don't want to accept. I refuse to.

"...Brazen?..Brazen?!...No, no, no,no,no,no,no,noo...."

I keep calling your name like a person that's drowning. Like it all depends on you. Because it does. Everything in this world, in my world depends on you, without you it doesn't make any sense. It's pointless.

I grab your pretty face in my hands and look in your eyes, forehead to forehead.

"Listen to my voice, listen only to me, only to my voice, focus on it, don't think...."

I see the conscious thoughts fading from your eyes and I know that at this point I don't have a choice.

"DON'T THINK!"

You have no idea how much it pains me to say that.

"...FORGET."

My voice betrays me. My unwillingness shows.

"FORGET!"

That's the only way.

It's so quiet.

You look like a doll. Like the prettiest thing in the whole world. Thing. Because there is not an ounce of life in your form. Your breathing is so shallow that it looks like you're dead. This thought is too much even for me and I start sobbing. 

I'm so scared. I'm terrified to try calling you because you might not respond and I don't know what I will do if you don't. Please, I know I'm selfish, I couldn't let you go and now my decisions are causing you pain. Please.

"...Brazen?..Brazen...wa.ke up"

I know it's all my fault, I know it is and I'm so sorry. I'm so weak when it comes to you. I know all that but please, please wake up.

"..pl..ease..."

Apparently I have all the luck in the world because you flutter your gorgeous eyes and look at me in all your beauty, only to ask me:

"...Who are you?"

"..."

I knew it was coming, I knew it surely happened again, I thought I was prepared. I wasn't. How many times have you asked me this question? These repulsive 3 words that haunts my dreams and now reality. I know this moment. This is the moment in which I smile and explain. This is the moment in which I'm patient, helpful and caring.

Except I'm not because I just realized that I'm currently almost hyperventilating and I want to die.

"Who am I...Why are you crying?"

"..."

I can't do this, not again.

"..Don't cry."

"..."

I can't even respond, It hurts so much that I would much rather be tortured in every possible way than pretend that's everything's okay. But, I love you.....so much, I... ,I can't be the cause of your fear, not right now when you're so lost,..I have to smile...I have to..

"...I'm sorry....so...sorry.."

I'm really impressed that you're keeping your cool in this situation. You're so brave and kind and..and..

I try to get myself under control, I desperately need to stop crying. Furiously wiping my tears doesn't help. Who would have thought? Brazen looks more and more concerned. I have to calm down.

"..I don't know what happened and if I'm one of the people that you would accept such gesture from but..."

She hugs me. 

She woke up with no knowledge of our identifies or location, and her priority is to help me? I know her. I know how good she is and still every time I'm surprised by her kindness. She pushes boundaries of generosity with her every gesture, every decision. 

I froze for a second before hugging her as if I wanted her to become a part of me.

How can I calm down? How, when I'm making such person scream in pain time and time again only for her to try to cheer me up moments later? 

You? A person I wouldn't accept such a gesture from? You're afraid whether I'm not repulsed by your touch? I don't deserve your touch. I don't deserve to be in the same room, but if there was a way for me to never let you go from this embrace I wouldn't.

"Everything will be okay. You don't have to worry."

Why does your compassion, one which I always looked upon with such awe, hurts so much now? I love you so deeply. It scares me, because there is a possibility that you will never know. Very high possibility. It's fitting punishment. For leavening you to die in fit of anger. For abounding you when you needed me the most. I should've made you come with me I should've done something...anything..

I can still try. Try to make it right. What I'm doing right now doesn't help. I have to calm down. I will calm down. I just have to breath. Breath. 

It takes a lot of time but I manage to stop crying. You're so patient.

"I probably scared you didn't I? I'm sorry...but you're as compassionate as ever, huh?"

I should've stopped at apology, my voice almost cracked.

"I wouldn't know."

It's like every color from my vision disappears, everything turns grey.

"...yeah,..yeah, you wouldn't."

"What's your name?"

Another question that I would rather didn't exist. Oh..I must have failed at keeping a straight face judging from Brazen's expression, why today is so exceptionally hard?

"Asra, nice to meet you."

I really try to smile and miraculously, I almost succeed.

"Nice to meet you too, but unfortunately you will have to do introductions on both sides."

I feel so empty. And tired, but at the same time I laugh because I don't want to waste her effort. 

"Asra, nice to meet you Brazen." I correct myself.

She looks thoughtful, like she always does when she hears her name for "the first time"...Let's focus on practical tasks, I can't keep thinking like this.

"Let's get you up from this floor."

Yeah, that will work.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asra pov continues

You're like a little lively bird flying around the shop. All the past despair and our mutual suffering gone, forgotten. Like it didn't happened, like the old days. 

You used to read heavy tomes to me while I couldn't sleep. You would make me lay my head in your lap and stroke my hair till I fell asleep. I used to think, how appearances can be deceiving ,when you were holding up, seemingly with no effort, a book that looked half your weight. To me,you were like a delicate flower that refused to wither even in the strongest snow.

I knew, that if the world would end, you would be there for me and there is nothing I should ever fear. Because you would be there. 

I lost my mind a little when I saw you coughing up blood in my mind's eye, while digging your bones with my bare hands on that beach. The contrast of your fall and my idea of you to stark for my psyche not to collapse. But even then, you've never failed me.

Really, you never did. It was never your fault. You were still the strongest to me,...just not for me. You didn't chose me. You choose bravery and rightness over me. But that was the right choice. The choice that defines you as a good person.

I still love you, I really do. How could I not? I do precisely because of that, even if it hurts me. I know all of this is true,..it is..but.. 

My heart won't listen to reason. It screams that you should have picked me. Not some universal values. Not same random people. Not Vesuvia. Me. You should have picked me. And I can't help, but feel a grain of resentment in my butchered heart every time I remember. I resent you for the same thing I love you for, what has my life come to? 

What would you think, if you saw me now? The real you, the "my" you, would you laugh at the fool that I've become? You're right in front of me so why do I feel, like you're dead?

You stir, your joints getting stiff, and move the book to to your knees. You don't look up, apparently you can't feel my eyes on you. 

You're so serious, you've been for as long as I've known you. So fragile, reading a book you've already red, parched on the parapet. So clever, so prideful. And beautiful. Always beautiful. 

I want to rip that book away from you. I want to make you look at me, to grab your chin and forcefully move it in my direction. I want you to finally see me....to see me as I see you.  
  
But...you can't know. You're finally doing better, but you still can't know. That's why I have to go, my love for you, becoming too obvious. 

"Brazen do you mind looking after a shop for a while?"

You look startled, it takes a while for you to abandon the world of your tome and change the direction of your thoughts to answer my question.

I use the time it takes for you to respond to pray for it to rain. Or snow. Or hail. For anything to happen that will let me convince myself to postpone going away from you. I already regret my question. Any excuse is good, really. 

You take a breath to state your answer and all I can think of is please say yes. Let your mouth convey what escapes your eyes. I can't stand your politeness, you're not supposed to be polite. Not with me.

"Not at all."

I'm disappointed, even though I know I shouldn't be. It's the only emotion that stays with me lately.

You look at me, like you know exactly what I'm thinking. It's making me squirm. You should never think I'm disappointed in you. Because I'm not, I'm disappointed by the situation, by our misfortune, but never by you.

You think I don't see the sadness when you lock your eyes with mine in a silent plea, every time I'm going? It makes me want to hug you, to grab you, to never let go, but at the same time, some twisted part of me is reassured, that you're glad I'm here, that you feel the difference when I'm gone.

You put the book on the counter focusing on me. "Where are you going?"

I can see the worry in the way you wring your delicate hands in your lap, I don't want to worry you but..... it... makes me so... happy that I'm someone you spare your time to worry about.

"You know I can't tell you, even more so take you with me." I say in advance, predicting your next question. Oh how I want to take you with me. "Don't worry you will be able to go with me very soon." 

That's a lie if I've ever told one.

"I understand."

You look defeated and already so very lonely....so very lonely without me. I'm utterly twisted. Normal people wouldn't be happy over someone else's misery.

I have to go, now, or else I might not find the strength to. But I feel like I shouldn't, like something bad is bound to happen. I'm paranoid at this point. I can't trust my instincts, which is bad considering I'm always making decisions based mainly on my instincts. It matters not. I will be back soon.

With heavy heart I'm looking at you one last time. Not last, I remind myself, that sounds ominous. Last time for now. Ironically it's raining, but alas I still must go. It's like every sign on heaven and earth is telling me not to. I will laugh about all this when I come back.

At least I hope so.


End file.
